The Definition of 'The End'
by AdforCarus
Summary: Things aren't always as they appear. AU to the max.


Disclaimer: We love 'em. Sadly, we don't own 'em.

Rating: PG-13 for now.

COLLABORATION: AdforCarus and jlangblues.

Crossover (slight)- Gilmore Girls Cursed.

Title: The Definition of 'The End'.

Summary: Things aren't always as they appear. AU to the max. (We aren't kidding.)

A/N: All right folks. Bear with us, we're hoping this will be good. We're trying to make it as anti-cliche as possible... but who knows if we'll be able to achieve that. When you read this, just realize that it's for fun. It's not meant to be the fan fic that changes the world, we just wanted to write something that y'all would like, and we'd have fun writing. So... on with the fic? No necessary details are needed at the moment- spoilers for the movie are alive and well, so don't read if you don't wanna know. All information that's needed to know will be let out slowly. But, for the record, Jess moved back to California after confronting Rory. If we haven't lost you already, enjoy. If we have, well. What can we say. At least we're trying to write this, right?

Love lots– Tand E.

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Chapter One.

Pounding headaches and car alarms never were best friends. As the clock slowly creeps towards three a.m., Jess Mariano wonders exactly how quickly he can get outside, beat the owner of the car to a bloody pulp, get back inside, and then fall back asleep. He groans, looking over again at the digital numbers. Two hours before he has to get up for work. Worth it? The car alarm begins its signal again, and he decides instantly. Whoever decides to set off a car alarm at three in the morning deserves to get their ass kicked.

Jess stumbles out of bed. "Shit piss fuck," he mutters. Not only is the car outside rooting against him, but it appears his night stand has also taken on demonic powers. He glares angrily at the table. Note to self, he thinks. Hangovers on a Wednesday night (Thursday morning?)- not so fun. Especially not so fucking fun when even inanimate objects are trying to set him off.

Making it to the hallway, he clumsily tries to make his way down the stairs without falling on his ass. As he reaches the third to last step, he pitches forward. So much for being careful.

"Dammit," he moans as his head collides with the wall. Wincing, Jess places his hand to his nose. Pulling his fingertips back, he's surprised he doesn't see blood. The car alarm starts again.

"And the hits they just... something," he says, tiredly trying to remember the last words of the phrase. "Coming. They keep coming, and-." He breaks off, opening the door and letting it slam against the flowery wall paper that he swears his landlord put up just for spite. At first, the slamming of the door seemed to be a good idea. Now, with a small earthquake raging inside his head- not the best idea he had ever had.

"Someone drive the goddamn car off a cliff already," he yells, craning his head to look for the vehicle in question.

"I've tried to make it stop, but every time I throw another rock at it, it just keeps on going." Jess turns to the side, and he takes a jump back.

"Shit, make some noise or something. Do you regularly spend nights throwing rocks at cars from my porch?" he snaps, looking at the offending person. "And damn, you could at least turn around. I mean, hell, I have work in two hours, a hangover the size of Uzbekistan- might as well-."

"Uzbekistan?" Jess rolls his eyes.

"Drunk- me, drunk." The guy standing in front of him shrugs, and turns around. A strange feeling comes over Jess. Kind of like the one that comes whenever he realizes that everyone knows something but him. Kind of like the one that comes when he's the last one to figure out a bad joke. Obviously he's not the only one who hasn't figured out this joke.

"Jesus!" The boy in front of him whispers.

"How much did I drink I last night?" Jess wonders out loud. "I mean, it was a lot, but not... not this much."

"I'm not one to monitor drinking habits. I'm seventeen. I can't get into a bar. I mean, there was this one time, but that was when-."

"Energizer Bunny, lets try the breathing thing, all right?" The car starts its hum again. Jess sighs wearily. "Why did you throw a rock at it in the first place?" The boy in front of him shrugs, embarrassed.

"Nothing better to do, really."

"Huh. Original," Jess says sarcastically, as he rolls his head around his shoulders wearily. "Jeez, don't you have somewhere to be? Girlfriend, friend, something?"

"I'm gay," he says absent-mindedly. Jess's head snaps up, looking at him bewilderedly. The boy closes his eyes tightly, biting his lip. Jess distinctly hears him mutter 'fuck', which is the only word that's said for a minute. Opening his mouth and closing it twice, Jess finally manages to spit out:

"What?"

"Oh, look," he says quickly. "Wow, wonder if it'll snow today. You know, hasn't happened in a while, but there's always a first or second... or third time for everything." Jess takes a step backwards, trying to shut his mind off for a minute. He'll open his eyes and the Mini Jess Rock Thrower person will... magically disappear. He opens his eyes, and finds the kid scratching the back of his neck in way that's all too familiar.

"Look, just go home," Jess finally says. "I don't need a hallucination right now."

"Hey buddy, I realize you're wasted and all, but there's no way you could've imagined this up," he remarks, motioning towards himself.

"You look identical to me, it'd take fucking two seconds!" Jess practically shouts. He's silent for a moment, before continuing to talk again. "What's your name?"

"Bo." Jess frowns.

"Great, my mini me has the name of Bo. So, tell me, did your uncle do your mom in Kentucky, or do your parents just have a thing for nursery rhymes?" Bo stares at him, his eyes widening slightly and his mouth agape.

"Should I go get some Midol, or are you always such a jackass?" Jess sighs, waving his hand carelessly.

"Whatever. I'm going inside- stay the hell off my porch, and..." he stops, looking at Bo. "Why the hell are you here, anyway?" Bo shifts on his feet unsteadily, looking down at the ground before looking back up. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly.

"I don't really have anywhere else to go." Jess stares at him, then sighs, his eyes drifting to the bandages on his face. Whoever the hell this Bo was, he was hitting just a little too close to home now. Looking at him once more, Jess motions towards the door.

"If you turn out to be some psycho serial killer, wait until I fall asleep before you stab me with a carrot peeler, all right?" Bo thinks for a moment before nodding.

"Understandable."

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A/N take 2: Don't worry, Jess and Bo won't have some soap opera-esque relation. That's too cliche... even for us. They're just two hot boys who happen to look a hell of a lot alike.

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